


Hockey House

by aseaofwords



Series: The Kazer Collections [17]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, Jonny as a dad gives me feelings okay, Kid Fic, M/M, Parents!Kazer, Patrick is an Idiot, Slow Burn, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, boys crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aseaofwords/pseuds/aseaofwords
Summary: So Jonny has a baby, and Patrick wants to help. Okay. No big deal.No no, you’re reading it wrong. It should be: Okay, no, big deal. Because the man Jonny’s so desperately (secretly) in love with decided to move in and help him raise his daughter.Shit.Or,The story of how Jonathan becomes a parent, falls for his teammate, and cries.





	Hockey House

**Author's Note:**

> Get your tissues we goin on a trip

It starts like this:

It's midnight in Winnipeg in the off-season, when Jonathan gets the call from the hospital.

He's running through the hospital doors in a tired, confused panic, asking for Veronica Landry, says his name.

The nurse smiles sympathetically, “Follow me.”

They go down the hall as Jonathan tries to stack his brain about why he was called to his ex-girlfriend’s hospital bed.

“This was her room.” The nurse tells him, motioning to one of the rooms with the blinds pulled up. There’s a lump underneath the sheets on the bed.

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows. “Was?”

“She passed away a few hours ago.” The nurse replied, continuing on.

Jonathan blinked, moving on autopilot. Veronica was dead?

“Can I ask why I was called?” He asked her, “Veronica and I broke up almost a year ago.”

“Yes, she mentioned that.” She told him, “Jonathan, did you know she was pregnant?”

Jonathan tripped.

The nurse snorted, “I'll take that as a no.”

Jonathan sped to keep up with her. “She...she was, what?”

“Pregnant, that's what I said. She claimed it was yours right before she had her.”

“Her?” His voice shook.

They entered a room full of infants, swaddled in blankets and caps. She made her way over to one of the bassinet and picked up the baby inside. She set it in his arms.

“Meet your daughter, Mr. Toews.”

Jonathan tried to come up with reasons why she wasn't his. But when she opened her eyes, and his met the dark, drowning brown ones she had, compared to Veronica’s light green, he knew there wasn't a doubt that she was his.

-

He took a paternity test just in case. It came back positive anyway.

Jonathan sat in the empty hospital room, cradling his unnamed daughter while he tried to figure out what to do.

Veronica’s parents weren’t healthy enough to take care of the baby, and she had no other living family. Custody went to him, unless he gave her up for adoption.

That was _not_ on the table.

“Mr. Toews?” The nurse from before knocked on the door, walking inside. “Can I get you anything? Call anyone for you?”

Jonathan shook his head and took a deep breath. He needed to focus. “No, no thank you. I-I’ll call my Maman soon. It’s just- a lot to take in.”

The nurse nodded in understanding. “Especially so early in the morning. Do you want me to take he-“

“ _No!_ ”

His yell startled himself more than the nurse. She smiled at him. “Alright. Is there anything I can do to help you? I’m having Child Services fax over the forms you need to fill out for legal custody.”

“Forms?” Jonny furrowed his eyebrows. “How long will that take?”

“A couple days at most.”

“I can’t leave her.”

“She needs to be monitored anyway,” the nurse assured him, “Usually the babies are kept for two or three days to make sure they’re eating normally, breathing correctly, things like that. Of course, you’re welcome to stay until she’s discharged.”

Jonathan let himself relax into the pillows. “Okay.” He breathed. “Yeah, that’s- okay.”

“Would you like some water, Mr. Toews?” The nurse asked him gently.

Jonathan swallowed, “Please.” He croaked.

While she was busy with that, Jonathan called his mother. He was able to keep his composure all the way up until she and David arrived. He broke into tears of panic and exhaustion, melting into André’s embrace as she sat back against the mattress, him buried in her arms, his daughter snuggled in his.

He explained everything in frantic French, André answering back in French, which always helped Jonathan calm down. David went to call their dad, and eventually, André pulled away to talk some sense into her oldest son.

“Has the nurse given you the birth certificate to fill out yet?” She asked him, wiping away his tears with her thumb.

Jonathan sniffled, mind clearing just a little at the reminder that he wasn’t alone in all this. “Uh, yeah. They’re on the table over there.”

She collected the papers. “Well, I think the first place we should start is with a name.”

Jonathan looked down toward the baby in his arms, that hasn’t been moved since she was first placed on his arms. She was fast asleep, little fists clenched, face smooth and soft, except for the little crinkle right in between her eyebrows, just like Jonny.

“Abella.” He murmured, brushing stray hairs off of her forehead, a dark brown color.

Both he and Veronica had brown hair, so he wasn't sure if she'd have her hair or his. He could always say it was his.

André wrote in pretty cursive ‘ _Abella_ ’, then asked, “What about a middle name?”

Jonathan shrugged, “I don't know. You choose.”

“Me?” André asked, surprised. “Alright.” She thought for a few moments. “What about Elise?”

Jonathan dragged his index finger down his daughter’s cheek, pondering. “Abella Elise. I like it.”

André wrote that down, too, and let Jonathan use his free arm to struggle to sign his name under the ‘father’ section because he _still_ refused to let go of her.

David walked in, then, and Jonathan smiled at him. “Hey, David. Meet your niece, Abella.”

Hours later, Jonathan still refused to sleep, even when the nurse – he really needs to learn her name – suggested it.

She and André helped Jonathan feed her, and Jonny was in awe as he bottle fed her.

He'd barely been a father twenty-four hours. He'd no idea he was going to be a father. He'd questioned, briefly, if he should send her to an adoption place, so she could have a normal life.

But sitting there, her small body nestled in his big arms as she stared up at him with sleepy, brown eyes that stared at him in wonder, her little fists pressed against the plastic of the bottle, the milky smell of a new baby wafting into his nose, he was suddenly hit with a truckload of feelings because he _refused_ to let her go, _refused_ to let anyone or anything hurt her, refused to let anything happen to her.

Abella was his _daughter_.

Jonathan let a single tear fall from his watering eyes, and it dripped onto the blanket she was wrapped in, absorbing into the material.

He pressed his lips to her soft head, breathing in her scent, holding her to where no one could get to her but him.

“ _Je t'aime ma princesse_.” He murmured into her forehead.

She cooed up at him, and he’d never admit it, but he let a couple more tears slip out.

-

Two days later, paperwork had been signed, Abella received her final checkup before the next month, and they were finally discharged.

André, bless her, had gone out baby shopping. Not for much, because she knew Jonathan was particular about a lot of things, and dressing his baby and giving her toys were no exception.

But, she found the best rated carrier-carseat and situated it into his Toyota, strapped on a mirror so he could see her while he was driving, and had brought the softest onesie she could find at the store.

It was simple enough, a pretty pale purple with flowers on the chest. But it was nice and suited her perfectly.

For the first time ever, Jonathan changed her diaper and put her in the onesie, and he felt a surge of pride when he only asked for help three times.

André brought over the carrier and Jonathan strapped her inside, making sure she was snug. Then, he draped the cover over the top to block out the sun, and gasped.

“It was short notice, but I had a friend who did monograms.” His mother explained, looking at the cover, “I figured you might like it. If you don't, they're very cheap at the stores.”

The cover was white with teal swirls decorating it, and in black swirly letters were the initials- ATE: Abella Elise Toews.

“Maman, it's- I love it. Thank you.” Jonathan breathed.

They exchanged hugs again, until David rang André to say that he'd pulled Jonny’s car around. Jonathan took the carrier in hand, careful not to stir Abella. The two made their way down to the lobby and André taught Jonny how to strap the carseat into the car.

Jonny sat in the back with Abella, David driving and André in the passenger’s.

Jonathan doesn't like sleeping in cars. He _definitely_ didn't want to fall asleep now, with Abella right there, but he blinked, and was out.

When he woke, he noticed it was dark both inside and outside. The red blinking lights on the clock across the room showed **2:46 a.m.** He sat up and immediately looked around for Abella.

André, of course, was always one step ahead of him, and knew he'd be panicked if he could find Abella. So, she’d set up a bassinet right by the couch where David had dropped him.

Abella was asleep inside the clear bassinet, and Jonathan stumbled over to the edge, peering down at her. She was breathing, and didn't seem to be in any peril, so he let himself relax, just a little. He pulled the bassinet closer to the side of the couch and laid down, drifting off the sleep with a hand on the edge.

-

The next night, Jonathan was up and about every couple hours to feed her, change her, calm her down, and it was only one night and he was already going insane.

When Abella finally got to sleep again, Jonathan sat in the middle of his bed and dialled the first person he could think of.

“ _Tazer? Whas’ happening?_ ” Kaner groaned, _“Why’re you calling me at ass-o’clock in the mornin’?”_

Jonathan let out a shaky breath. “I'm a dad.”

Patrick made a sound, like he'd just inhaled his tongue. _“Um, what?”_

“I'm a dad, Patrick,” he repeated, “I have a daughter. Her-her name is Abella.”

Patrick was silent, before he asked, “ _You're not...joking, are you?_ ”

“No, I'm not. I, uh, here, let me send a picture. I think my mom took one yesterday.” He quickly scrolled through his camera roll and sent the picture he found.

Patrick had been silent through the searching process, but Jon didn't miss the gasp when he opened the message.

“ _How?_ ” Patrick croaked, “ _I didn't- You never told me you had a girlfriend._ ”

“I don't.” Jonathan cleared up quickly, unsure why he was so eager to explain that he was very much single, “Do you remember Veronica?”

“ _Yeah_.”

“Well, back when we were dating, we had sex, and I guess I got her pregnant. But she never told me. She broke up with me and left. A couple days ago, I got a call from the hospital that she’d-she'd died, after having the baby.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Yeah. I took a paternity test, blood test- She's mine, Kaner. I have a daughter.”

Patrick let out an audible breath. “ _Geez, man, that’s- wow. Are you okay?_ ”

That was the first time anyone had asked how he was doing. It made his heart clench when he realized that it had been Patrick, of all people, to ask.

“I don't know.” Jonny admitted. “It all happened so fast, and suddenly I'm a father? Jesus Christ.” He paused. “It's not so bad, though. Maman says she's well-behaved. I was much worse than her.”

Patrick chuckled a little, and Jonathan was so glad he’d called Patrick because he felt much better than before. “ _I'm not surprised. You said her name’s Abella?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“ _That's pretty. She's beautiful. I'm proud of you. You're not freaking out_.”

Jonathan ignored the weak chirp to acknowledge the compliment about his daughter. “She really is- beautiful.”

_“What's her middle name?”_

“Elise.”

“ _Abella Elise. Hm. It suits her_.”

“Yeah.” Jonny said for the third time.

“ _So, when was she born?_ ”

“The sixteenth of August.” Jon replied. “I don't know the exact ti-” His ears perked when Abella let out a little whine. “God Almighty, not again.”

“ _What? What's wrong?_ ”

Abella sputtered into cries again, and Jonathan huffed, feeling like he wanted to rip his pillow into shreds. “She won't let me _sleep_ , God fuck. I can't- hold on.”

Jonathan scurried to the playpen Abella was sleeping in and picked her up, rocking her to keep her quiet. “What? What do you want, honey? This is the fourth time this hour.”

“ _I assume you've fed her, right?_ ” Kaner asked from the phone.

“Yeah, an hour ago. Her diaper’s dry, too. I'm losing my mind, Kaner.” Jonathan frowned.

“ _Hey, you haven't freaked out yet. Don't start on me now. She probably just wants your attention._ ”

Jonathan looked down at Abella and huh, she was staring up at him with sleepy eyes, fists balled in her mittens André had picked up, snuggled comfortably into his shirt.

“Is that what's been going on with you?” Jonathan asked her, “You could have just said something.”

The realization that _no, Jon,_ _she couldn't_ , and the tiredness he felt sent him into sputtering laughter, phone tucked in between his shoulder and cheek.

“ _Goddamn, Jonny. You really are losing your mind._ ”

Jonathan agreed, “Fuckin’ right.” He laid against the pillows on the bed, Abella on his chest.

“ _I have three little sisters I helped take care of. Do you want me to come over when you're back in Chicago? I can help you out._ ”

“You will?” Jon asked, groggily.

“ _Yeah, man, I will. Only if you want me to._ ”

Jonathan put his free hand on Abella’s back, and let himself sob, releasing all the exhaustion and fear and panic that had been built up since he first got the call.

“ _Okay, Jonny, okay. I'll be over as soon as I get to Chicago. Just hold on until then._ ”

Patrick stayed on the phone with him while Jonathan cried, holding Abella closely, protectively, shaking into the early morning.

-

For the next month, Jonathan was assisted by his parents and brother with Abella.

But, he was a hockey player, and the season was starting soon. He had to go back to Chicago.

He'd called Q a couple weeks back, explaining the scenario. They'd figure out when to make a statement when he got back, but until then, Jonny was happy to agree to lay low and relax with Abella until the season officially began.

One month olds weren't allowed on planes, which meant Jonathan had to drive with a baby down to Chicago, alone.

He was freaking out a little, not that he'd ever admit it.

“You'll be fine, sweetheart.” André assured him, holding Abella as David and Bryan packed up Jonny’s car, and Jonny paced around, making sure he didn't forget anything.

“I'm scared, Maman.” Jonathan admitted, staring out the window at his car nervously, and André knew he was talking about more than just driving.

“I know you are.” She replied. “But everything is going to be alright. You have all your teammates who are fathers, brothers. You won't be alone. And we’ll see each other on holidays.”

Bryan came in with a smile and a nod, “You're all set, bud.”

Jonathan let out a shaky breath and accepted his daughter from his mother, holding her close and cooing as she shifted around in her sleep. She sensed Jonny and relaxed immediately, releasing a content sigh, like she’d been trying to copy her father.

The drive was nerve wracking. It was fourteen hours from Winnipeg to Chicago by driving, and Jonny left around noon. He decided to drive through the night, not wanting to risk being seen with a baby by the public just yet. Plus, he didn't want to sleep on a hotel and risk it being broken into a she being stolen or something.

Okay, maybe he was being a little paranoid, but at least she was safe.

Halfway or so through the drive, she got fussy. She was hungry, needed a diaper change, and was agitated with not having Jonny’s attention when she’d woken.

He pulled into a hotel parking lot and climbed to the backseat. He looked around in the diaper bag and got the spare diaper, wipes, and blanket. He draped the blanket across his lap and set Abella on the blanket. He changed her quickly, put the supplies away, and went about making her bottle.

She drank it greedily, heavy head resting in the crook of Jonny’s elbow. He held her like, well, a baby, draped in his arms and cradled close, left hand holding the bottle upright as she fed.

“I can't wait for the team to meet you.” He whispered to her, knowing him talking always lulled her back to sleep. “They're gonna love you. I wish Sharpy was still playing, but I can always invite him over, can't I? He's gonna be so jealous.”

She fell asleep, safely tucked in his arms. He stayed like that, just reveling in the moment, before deciding he was too tired and needed to get going.

He arrived at his condo in Chicago at 3:37 in the morning. Abella was sound asleep in her carrier, and he could see her peaceful visage in the mirror on the backseat as he pulled into the parking lot.

He carefully unclipped Abella from the carrier and swaddled the blanket around her, holding her to his chest. He put a hand on her little butt and the other on her neck and head, keeping her pressed securely to his peck.

She wiggled, whining in annoyance of being woken up.

“Shh, shh, it's alright. Daddy’s got you.” He crooned, putting all his attention on keeping her calm.

When she settled, he grabbed her diaper bag and the large bag with all ten of her onesies, her three pairs of shoes, little bows and dresses, and six packages of Pampers. He swung both bags over his shoulders.

He closed his trunk but left it unlocked, trudging tiredly into the lobby. He was greeted by the doorman, Bobby, who smiled in confusion.

“Turns out I'm a dad, man.” Jonny laughed in exhaustion. He handed Bobby his keys, “Do me a favor? I have a ton of bags and boxes in my car. Could you bring them up to my condo. I would, but…”

He motioned down to his sleeping daughter and two heavy bags on his shoulders, and Bobby nodded in understanding.

“Sure thing, Jon. And hey, congratulations.” Bobby agreed, smiling wide, then disappearing.

Jonathan pushed open the door to his condo and dropped the bags immediately, going over to the couch. He carefully placed her there and sat on the floor, making himself uncomfortable so he didn't fall asleep.

Bobby eventually came in, carrying the large travel playpen box his mother had helped him pick out and bless him, he was more awake than Jonny and knew exactly what needed to come first, second, third, last.

Jonny went straight to work, setting it up while Bobby came in and out with boxes and bags, until it was nearly five in the morning and everything was in Jonny’s condo.

“Thank you so much, B. I owe you one.” Jonathan breathed out, shaking his hand.

“No problem.” Bobby responded. “Kids are amazing. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Jonathan smiled tiredly at him. “I'll remember that.”

Abella suddenly woke up with a cry – in only a month, Jonathan had figured out the different pitches of crying and what they meant: a low, whining cry was either to be fed or a diaper change. Sobs where when she was scared or wanted attention. And screaming shrieks were when something was horribly wrong.

(He’d only heard those once, when Jonny’s cousins stopped by to meet Abella, and one of them accidentally whacked Abella in the face. Jonny never wanted to hear that kind of crying again.)

These were the cries of the first: either bottles or diapers. Jonny picked her up and checked her diaper, finding it dry.

“Oh, so you're hungry then, huh? Let's see what I can mix up.” Jonathan rambled over her crying, walking around as he mixed her bottle.

He put the teat of the bottle to her lips, and it took some assistance, but she accepted it eagerly once she got a grip on it. Her cries were instantly silenced, and the big-eyed look she was sending up at him was her way of saying thank you, Jonny had learned.

When she was done eating, he carried her into his room, where the playpen was set up next to his bed. He laid her down and watched her for a good minute to make sure she was okay.

He made sure to lock all the doors, all the windows, and close all the curtains. He left a nightlight on in his room so he could see Abella if she or he woke up. Then, he promptly collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep, more content than he had been in the last forty-eight hours.

-

He was woken up by Abella at seven a.m., and for the first time in a long time, he wanted to cry.

He rolled over to Abella’s pen and kneeled on the mattress, lifting her into his arms. It was a feeding/diaper cry again, and Jonathan confirmed it was the latter.

He sighed and trudged out of bed, walking to the living room to shuffle through the bags. He grabbed the opened pack of Pampers, the wipes in the diaper bag, and went back to the bedroom.

He laid her down on the sheets and shushed softly at her to make her stop crying. He undid the onesie and shimmied it off, pressing a light kiss to her belly.

She sniffed at him, almost obnoxiously, as if he didn't deserve to kiss her, and Jonathan couldn't help but laugh a little.

“Miss drama queen, are we?” He asked, surprised at how deep and raspy his voice was.

He took off the soiled diaper – it was only pee – and tossed it to the side. He put the new diaper underneath her little bottom and wiped her down, then stuck the tabs to the front of the diaper. He put the onesie back on her and rolled up the soiled diaper, resticking the tabs to keep it together.

Abella was whimpering and whining now, but not crying. “Hungry, too? Of course you are. Come on.”

He picked her up, feeling a little better than before, what now being fully awake and having gotten a good two hours of sleep. He took her to the kitchen and tossed the diaper, then fixed her a bottle, smiling when she eagerly began to drink it down.

“You’re gonna be a handful, aren’t you?” He spoke to her as she drank. The nurse had told him, since he wasn’t there for the pregnancy, talking to her and being around her as much as possible would help for, both paternal instincts, and for her to bond with him.

“It’s okay.” He continued, “The guys are gonna love you. You’re gonna have a bunch of hockey players for uncles, protecting you. All the guys aren’t just gonna have to go through me- they’ll have to go through them. But don’t worry. The right guy- or girl, it’s not like it will be a problem- will love you and stay with you no matter what.”

She stared up at him with big eyes, and he sighed, “What am I doing? You’re a month old and I’m already talking about boys. Yeesh. Welcome to parenthood.”

The first day without his family helping him went by smoother than expected. Thank god Abella wasn’t an overly fussy baby. That night was a little tougher than the day, considering every wink of sleep he got, Abella either wanted to be fed or wanted his attention.

Eventually, they both passed out, long enough for Jonathan to get a good three straight hours of sleep, and the hour-to-two in between each feeding and hissy fit.

It was eight in the morning and Jonathan was lounging on the couch, watching ESPN while Abella slept soundly in the playpen he’d brought out to the living room, when his doorbell rang.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he muted the tv and got up, checking on Abella before heading to the door. He peeked out the peephole and, what the fuck? “What are you doing here?”

Kaner gave him a once-over and said, “Damn, you look like hell,” then promptly squeezed his way inside. “I told you, I’d be over as soon as I got to Chicago.”

The memory of the phone call was recalled in Jonny’s ears. “Oh. Right.”

Kaner’s smirk faltered a little, “That is, if you still want me here. It’s been a month, so-”

“No, no way,” Jonathan stopped him, “Please. I need some help. I haven’t been on my own with her before. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Kaner smiled sympathetically at him and out a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Well, she’s still breathing- I hope. Wait no, shit, that didn’t help. I just meant I haven’t seen her yet.”

Jonathan snorted, “You’re an actual idiot.”

Kaner grinned lopsidedly.

“Do you want to meet her?” Jonathan asked, making his way back to the living room. Kaner followed behind excitedly. He was led to the playpen, where the two peered over the edge to look at Abella, still sleeping.

“Wow,” Patrick breathed, “She’s even more beautiful in person.” He smiled proudly at Jonny, “Not bad for a smartass.”

“You’re the smartass.” Was the automatic response, and both chuckling afterwards.

“Have you gotten the nursery set up at all?” Patrick asked, and Jonathan froze.

 _Nope_.

“Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan glared at him accusingly. “Hey, I'm new at this, okay!” He seemed to deflate a little. “Like I said: I have no idea what I'm doing.”

Kaner gently punched his shoulder. “That's why I’m here, man. I may not have kids, but I have three sisters. I've seen more diapers than you. Now come on. Let's find a baseline for the nursery while she's sleeping.”

Jonathan had two spare rooms in his condo. They chose the one closer to Jonny’s room to be the nursery. The other would stay a guest room.

The room came with a closet and a window and lots of space. Kaner began listing off where things should go, what was needed.

“The closet can get set up today.” He suggested, “Since you've already got some clothes and shoes. Where are they? I can bring them in here.”

Jonathan rolled his lips. “There's not many. I didn't have time to shop up in Winnipeg, so my mom just grabbed some. They're in the box labeled ‘Abella’s Clothes’.”

Patrick brought the box in, and for the next twenty minutes, they organized the clothes by age and color – because Jonny has a little OCD, okay? – put away the shoes, and put the little bows and hair clips in a drawer by the bottom.

“When we order the crib, that'll obviously go in here, but- until then, I want to keep her with me, in my room.” Jonathan told his teammate.

Patrick nodded. “Yeah, that's fine, man. My mom did that with Jess, even though we had the crib. No big deal.”

“You're being really cool about this,” Jonny blurted, “So, thanks.”

Patrick just smiled. “We'll go shopping one day soon. Very soon. We should make a list.” He turned on his heels and headed to the kitchen where there was always a pad of paper.

He dug around for a pen and clicked it, then scribbled down some words on the paper, “So, crib, changing station, diaper trash can, dresser, toys, onesies, shirts, dresses, pants, rocking chair-”

“Rocking chair?”

Patrick looked at him incredulously. “Yes, a rocking chair. When it's ungodly hours in the morning and she's screaming at you to feed her, but you’re dead on your feet, you’re gonna want to sit down.”

Jonny blinked, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Pat snorted, then his face softened a little, “Plus, have you ever thought of what it'll be like when you play away games? We’re gone for a week sometimes. It'll be rough, man. So coming home and being able to hold her, even if it's at three a.m., being able to sit there and rock her, relax again, it's nice.”

Jonathan and Patrick stared at each other for a moment.

“Wow, Pat, you've really thought about this? With your kids once day?” Jon asked him.

Patrick shrugged. “I crashed at Sharpy’s one night, right after we got home from the Olympics. He and Maddy were just- they wouldn't let go of each other. I figured, seeing how much you already adore Abella, and her just being a baby, you might need it.”

For the first time since he first got the news that he was a father, Jonathan was speechless.

“Gee, thank you.” He said, sincerely, “It sounds really nice.”

Patrick smiled again, that soft, dopey smile. “It will be.”

He turned back to his pad of paper and wrote down some more things. “Paint, decorations, a Kane jersey-”

“You better watch yourself.”

-

The two men were currently on the phone, Patrick with the local ‘Babies R Us’ and Jonny with Sharpy.

“ _I just, I can't believe it_.” Sharpy breathed. “ _You're a fucking dad, holy shit_.”

Jonathan laughed, “Yeah, I know. My thoughts exactly.”

And of course, that was the moment Abella wanted her father’s attention.

She woke up slowly, noticed her father wasn't in sight, and began to whine and sob pitifully.

“Hold on, she's awake. Gimme a second.” Jonathan jogged to the living room, seeing Patrick coming, too, in his peripheral vision.

Jonny scooped up Abella in his arms, and her cries slowly ceased, finding comfort in her dad.

“There you go, little girl. Always wanting attention.” Jonny laughed.

He could practically hear Sharpy grinning, “ _I'll let you go, Tazer. Send me lots of pictures, and tell the team soon. They'll be eager to meet her._ ”

“Will do. Bye Sharpy.”

“ _Bye, Cap_.”

Jonathan tossed his phone onto the couch and put all his attention onto his baby. He maneuvered her to where she could see Patrick. “Abella, this is Patrick. Can you say hi?”

Patrick bent over a little and waved at her. “Hello, Abella.”

Jonathan took her little hand and waved it at Pat.

Patrick laughed, “She's got your grumpy face down already, Tazer.”

Jonathan grinned and lifted her up towards his face, kissing her chubby cheek. She weakly raised her arm and put her hand on his chin. Jonathan playfully, lightly, bit her fingers.

“You're already a natural.” Patrick told him sincerely.

Jonathan was practically glowing with affection. “Thanks, Kaner. Really. You've only been here barely a day and you've already helped so much.”

“Yeah, well, what are friends are for?” Patrick shrugged.

But for some reason, Jonathan felt something fizzle when Patrick said the word ‘friends.’

“I'm gonna head back to my place.” Patrick announced, grabbing his wallet and keys.

Jonathan blinked, “Wait, what?”

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows, “I'm going home?”

“Oh.” Jonathan nodded slowly, “Yeah, right, of course.” Patrick was leaving? He'd already gotten so used to Patrick being here. And he was leaving? Jonny was fucked.

“Right.” Kaner bit his lip. “I'll be back tomorrow morning.”

A little bit of relief washed through Jonathan. Patrick wasn't just here to help for a day. He was coming back.

Patrick obviously read Jon’s facial expression. “Hey, you didn't think this was a one-time thing, did you? It's your baby, Jon. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to.”

Jonathan breathed out a little. “Thank you.”

Patrick playfully punched Jon’s shoulder. “Always, dude. You’re my best friend, remember?”

Jonathan forced a smile. “Best friends.”

-

Shopping was _insanity_.

How did mothers _handle_ this?

Jonathan stared at the rows of cribs and mobiles, blinking, feeling overwhelmed.

Abella was passed out in the carrier, the opening covered by the monogrammed cover his mother bought, the carrier sat in the seat of the cart as he pushed the buggy through ‘Babies R Us’, Kaner at his right, grabbing whatever small things he deemed necessary.

“Hey, no panicking, remember?” Patrick hit his shoulder, “They're just cribs. It'll be fine.”

“Where do we start?” Jonathan fretted. “It needs to be high-quality. The bars can't fall in the middle of the night so she can roll out, and they can't pinch her, or easily catch fire. And it needs to look nice. We-”

“Jonny, stop.” Kaner grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face him, “They're cribs. There are warranties and warnings on them all. If you find a crib you like, we can choose the paint.”

Jonathan exhaled shakily and nodded. “Right. Yeah, right. Okay.” He slowly made his way, weaving in between the cribs, looking at the warnings and how sturdy they were.

“I like this one.” He mumbled, hand rubbing the top edge. It was a dark cherrywood, with a blanket draped over the edge with trees and leaves.

“I kind of like the theme, too. We could paint the room a pale green, with a cherrywood-looking brown color as an accent wall.”

“Like a nature-ish kind of theme.” Patrick deduced. “I like it, too.”

They ordered the crib, and Kaner went off in search of paint chips. Jonny walked around, grabbing a few onesies he found cute.

One of them said ‘Daddy’s Girl,’ and the other said ‘Bucket List: Get Daddy’s Attention.’ They both seemed to suit her well, so he dropped them in the cart.

“Formulas.” He snapped his fingers. “We’re almost out.”

He made his way to the formula section and started panicking again. There were multiple different brands of formula, and he had no idea which one he'd been using, since all the formula was bought by his mom.

A woman walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. “You're still breathing, right?”

Jonathan startled a little, but nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I'm new at the dad thing, so. I don't really know...what...to choose.”

“Is your baby allergic to to milk?” She asked, and Jonathan shook his head, “No I don't think she is.”

The woman scanned the isle and came back with a handful of cans of Enfamil Infant formula. “It's one of the best brands. I've used it will all four of my kids.”

Jonathan smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you so much.”

The woman nodded. “Not a problem. My husband is the same way. Are you a single father?”

Jonathan didn't have the chance to respond, because Patrick came jogging over with a stack of paint chips and a pack of pacifiers. “Hey! I found the best colors for the nursery, and these pacifiers. Look! This one has a moustache, and this one says ‘mute button’.”

Jonathan smiled sheepishly. “They're cute, Pat.”

The woman’s lips made an ‘ah’ formation. “Well I wish the two of you luck with your daughter.” She patted Jonathan on the shoulder and walked off.

“Oh, he’s not-” Jonathan tried to say, but she was already gone, “Never mind.”

“Who was that?” Patrick asked, putting the pacifiers in the cart.

“Just a woman who helped me find some formula for Abella.”

Patrick hummed and lifted the cover to check on Abella, finding her still fast asleep, fist plopped in her mouth.

“Bad habits already. Tsk tsk tsk.” Patrick tutted.

Jonathan punched his arm, “Shut up, Kaner. Come on, let's go look at the paint chips.”

At the end of the day, the boys had two shopping carts full of baby things: formula, clothes, toys, the crib, a mobile, five buckets of paint, a changing station, and much more.

“Ready to build a nursery?” Patrick asked as he and Jonathan got into the front seats.

Jonathan rolled his lips. “No.”

-

The nursery was done in a week.

They painted first, three walls a pale, baby green, and one wall a light, glossy cherry wood brown – that's where the crib was going. On the brown wall, Patrick glued white wooden letters spelling ‘Abella’ above the crib, and painted a white spiral line beneath it. They decorated the walls with stenciled leaves and swirls, and Jon put glow-in-the-dark paint on some of the leaves to make small nightlights.

Jonathan and Patrick both put together the crib. Patrick handled building the changing station and dresser while Jonathan organized the clothes, put the toys in bins, and even set up a small television on the wall opposite the crib.

He remembered his mother telling him how he wanted to watch cartoons all the time when he was a baby. It occupied him and got his attention when he was fussy. David, too, and Jon figured they were better safe than sorry.

By the time the nursery was done, the boys were extremely pleased with themselves.

“This is perfect.” Jonathan exhaled, “I love it. I can't thank you enough, man.”

“Enough with the thanking.” Patrick rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, rubbing off some paint. “I’m gonna get a shower, then you can. Sound good?”

The two parted, and Jonathan went off to check of Abella, who was in the playpen in his bedroom. She was almost two months old now. Jonny didn't know how to feel about that.

Abella was awake, looking around curiously. Jon grinned at her, “Hi little girl.” He scooped her up and kissed her soft head, nose brushing the soft tufts of her hair.

She made a noise at him, affectionate, snuggled her head on his chest. He held her like that, one of his large hands on her butt, the other cupping her neck and the bottom of her head. He laid out on the couch, closing his eyes as he reveled in the silence, the feeling of his daughter against him, of him protecting her.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he heard the patter of feet and Patrick say softly, “Hey, shower’s open if you want it.”

Jonny open his eyes a little, enough to see Patrick’s figure. “I'm okay right now. I'll get one later.” Then, he closed his eyes again.

He heard shuffling in the distance, the sound of a door open and close, and then a blanket draped over him, up to the bottom of Abella’s neck, which was up by Jonathan’s clavicle.

“Get some sleep, Jon,” Patrick murmured, “I'll watch for you two.”

Jonathan faintly heard the sink turn on and felt Abella shift a little, before he allowed himself to fall asleep, Abella cradled safe in his arms.

When he woke, Abella wasn't in his arms, and he almost had a stroke. He sat up quickly, blanket falling off his body.

He heard quiet talking coming from the kitchen, and he got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen doorway.

Patrick was in the kitchen, Abella in his arms as he fed her from a bottle, talking to her quietly.

“-not really a crow. That's just his nickname. He's a big teddy bear. But he and your daddy are really close, and he always defends him if someone wants to fight him. Um, let's see. There's Brinksy, or Kitty Cat. He's really fun. A young guy, you know? Really skilled with the stick. Not as good as me, you know? But up there. Q is-”

Jonathan wanted to listen more, to hear Patrick ramble off to his daughter about the team, his family, her family, but the damn floorboards creaked under his weight, causing Patrick to whip around in surprise.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled, “Sorry if I woke you. She got hungry and you needed sleep, so I went ahead and made a bottle.”

“You're fine.” Jonathan told him, still a little stunned at how tight his chest got at the image before him, “Telling her about the team, huh? They can't wait to meet her. They've been texting ever since I told them last week.”

“Well, practice starts up again soon, so they'll get their chance.” Patrick replied, then a smug grin spread to his face, “Ha. I'm the first player to meet her. In your face, Sharp Shooter.”

Jonathan snorted and shuffled to the coffee maker to pour some of the drink that was heating up. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven.”

“At _night?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, I slept longer than I thought.” He scoffed.

Patrick shrugged. “That's the life of a parent. You needed it, though. You also need a shower.”

Jonathan sniffed himself. “Yeah, it's been a little while since I got one.” Three days, to be exact.

“Go take a shower. I've got her.” Patrick insisted.

Jonathan looked hesitant. “You sure?”

“Positive, Tazer. Now go.” Pat rolled his eyes.

Jonathan held his hands up on defense and fled to the safety of the bathroom.

The shower was better than Jonathan remembered. He turned it on high heat and let the steam fog up the large mirror. He stripped and got under the spray and yes, that was fucking perfect.

He stayed in longer than he originally expected, a good thirty to forty minutes, but when he got out, he felt much better and much more awake.

He got dressed in his pajamas – an old Hawks shirt and some workout shorts – before heading back out to the main rooms.

Patrick was sitting on the couch watching the television, the Office, it looked like, with Abella on his chest. She was throwing her little fists in the air, looking up at Patrick curiously, and squeak. He’d make some random noise back at her, and tap her nose.

“Already introducing my daughter to the world of inappropriate television, Kaner?” Jon chirped, walking over.

Kaner replied instantly, like it was automatic, “It's not inappropriate; it's entertaining.”

Jonathan scoffed and sat down next to Patrick. Abella’s attention went to him and she made a loud, high-pitched whine, trying to fall over sideways towards him. Patrick and Jonathan both shot out their arms to grab her, and Jonathan laughed loudly.

He took her in his hands and brought her to his face, pressing their noses together. She leaned close and bit at his nose, but it only slid since she didn't have any teeth.

“That was the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Patrick gaped.

Jonathan hummed and cradled Abella to his shoulder, breathing in her soft baby scent.

-

Practice started the next week.

“I'm not leaving her with a sitter, Kaner.” Jonathan argued quietly so he didn't wake Abella from her nap. Kaner was on the phone with him, talking about what to do with Abella when they were gone.

“ _What choice do you have?_ ” Patrick responded. “ _You can't take her to the rink._ ”

“Says who? There are trainers. They can watch her. They take care of kids all the time.”

“ _Tazer_ …”

“No. It's settled. She's coming with us. Besides, the others want to meet her. Kill two birds with one stone, right?”

Jonathan hung up, then made his way out of the living room and into the nursery. Abella was sleeping in her crib, and Jonathan turned in the lamp and leaned over the edge.

Carefully, he lifted her off the mattress and out of the crib. She shifted, arms flailing as she whined, eyes squeezing shut.

“Shh, it's okay. Daddy’s here. You’re alright.” He clicked his tongue a couple times, rocking her to get her back to sleep.

When she dozed, he went to the marble bar slab in the kitchen, where her carrier was. He put her inside it, hand cupping the side of her head and shushing her as she stirred again. He buckled her up and dropped the cover.

He'd gotten pretty good with putting the carrier secure in the car, so that went by pretty easily. He rolled the cover up and got into the driver’s seat, duffel bag in the passenger’s.

The drive to the Ice House was nerve wracking. He knew the team would adore her, but he was still a little worried about leaving her alone with the trainers. Even though he’d be in the same building, just a room away, it still caused a pool of discomfort to settle in his gut.

He carried her inside in the carrier, cover down, duffel over one shoulder, diaper bag over the other. He pushed open the doors and made his way to the locker room, waving at the trainers he passed by.

He opened the doors to the locker room, and in an instant, all eyes were on him.

Kaner was by his stall, half dressed on his gear. He waved at them. Jonny waved back.

Seabs was the first to move, coming over to hug Jonathan. “Congratulations, man. We’re stoked.”

“Can we see her?” Brinksy asked.

“Is she gonna watch us play?”

“What’s her name again?”

“Abella,” Jonathan replied, a smile slowly growing on his lips, “She's two months old, and no, the trainers are going to watch her. I didn't want to leave her with a sitter, or at daycare.”

“Smart move.” Duncs spoke up, “I don't like leaving Colton with a sitter, either.”

The team crowded around Jonathan’s stall, whispering in excitement as Jonathan sat down on the bench and flipped open the cover.

The boys immediately freaked out, the rookies hugging each other – _hugging_ , for fucks sake – and the vets high-fiving.

“You're having a party without me?”

Patrick and Jonny broke into massive grins as Sharpy sauntered into the room, Q following behind. The team jumped on him, showering him with hugs and slaps on the ass because they're assholes, okay?

Sharpy came over to Jonathan and held his shoulder, looking down at Abella. “She's beautiful, man. I'm proud of you. She's still alive.”

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, looking pointedly at Sharpy and pointing to him and Kaner, “I swear to God, the both of you.”

“Suck my left nut.” Patrick taunted.

Seabs slapped him in the back of the head. “Have some class, dude. There's a lady present.”

Patrick smiled sheepishly, “Oops.”

Q patted Jon on the shoulder. “Not bad, Jonny, not bad at all. But it's time for practice.”

Jonathan frowned but nodded. “Can I drop her with some of the trainers?”

“Of course you can. Just keep your mind on the ice when you're out there.” Q reminded him.

One of the trainers – Grayson – walked over and took hold of the carrier. Jonathan felt his heart jerk at the sight.

Seabs noticed. “It'll be okay, Tazer. She's only a couple rooms away if something happens.”

They got dressed, and Jonathan was a little shaky doing so. He hasn't been this far from her since back in the hospital, when she had to go back to the hospital nursery every night.

Practice helped him relieve some stress, though. He willingly did a bag skate, and got an assist on a goal when they did a practice period.

By the end of practice, Jon was panting, sweaty and tired, but felt relaxed. The trainers that had been watching Abella were in the locker room, talking amongst themselves while Grayson held her.

Jonathan made an instant beeline to his baby, and she squealed when she saw him. He took her in his arms and held him to his chest, breathing out steadily. She was there, in his arms; she was safe.

He turned to the team, watching with shit-eating grins. He rolled his eyes and looked down at his daughter. “Say hi, Abella.”

Abella looked around as everyone said “hi” to her. Her eyes landed on Patrick and she cooed, resting her head on her father.

Patrick grinned, “She loves me more than all of you.”

He was responded to with slaps and sweaty towels thrown at him. He laughed, shielding himself with his hands. He looked up at Jonathan and Abella, seeing the captain bouncing her lightly, smiling as he talked to her and pointed to things around the room.

Patrick felt warmth pool in the back of his chest at the sight.

As everyone started filing out of the Ice House, Patrick slung hid duffel over his shoulder and walked up to Jonathan, who was clipping Abella into the carrier.

“You want me to come over?” Patrick asked him, and Jonathan laughed.

“Yeah, Pat. Sure. Sharpy’s coming, too.” The captain told him, “I'll see you at the condo.”

He draped the cover over the opening of the carrier. He nodded a goodbye at Patrick and left, duffel over his neck, hanging from the front. He’d look like a high school jock if he didn't have a baby carrier in his hand.

Patrick snorted. Yeesh.

-

They made the announcement a week before games began.

The foundation had called a meeting, and Jonathan let out a shaky breath as he waited for the press conference to start. There were reports a plenty in the seats and a microphone in the middle of the table where he was sitting, with Q and Rocky on either side of him.

Finally, Rocky tapped his microphone and cleared his throat to get their attention. “Alright. We asked you to this press conference for an important announcement from our captain. Please wait to ask questions until he finishes.” He pulled away from the mic and nodded at Jonathan to begin.

The captain gulped a little and shuffled forward, enough to reach his microphone. “Recently, I was given some news about a very important matter, that I am a father.”

The reporters collectively gasped and snapped multiple pictures at lightning speed. Jonathan tried to keep his composure, and hide how nervous he was.

“An ex-girlfriend of mine, whom of which I will not name for the privacy of her family, had passed away while delivering her child– my child.” He continued, “I was in no way aware of her pregnancy until I got the call after she had passed on. I have a daughter, of which I’ve named Abella, and she is in my custody.”

Then, he nodded at the reporters, “You may ask any questions you have.”

Hands flew up in the middle of the sentence, and Jonathan decided to go down the rows.

“About now long ago did you learn?”

Jonathan took a sip of his water. “The hospital she was born in called me after the mother told them I was the father. That was about three months ago.”

“Jonathan, you’ve been given the nickname ‘Captain Serious’. Now that you’re a father, do you think people will be seeing less of the serious and more of the fun, on the contrary?”

The captain’s face was a mixture of grimace and humor. “Well, I’m still the captain of a hockey team, and I will do what it takes to get us to the playoffs this year, but I’ve been trying to shake the nickname. So yes, I think people will be seeing a bit of a softer side of me.”

“Many of your teammates, Patrick Sharp, Brent Seabrook, Corey Crawford to name a few, are also fathers. Have they been helping you at all?”

“Sharpy has been a massive help, What with me being a single parent and him being retired. Seabrook also, and Crawford. The entire team has pitched in, at least a little bit, to help me out, which is a relief.”

“You and Patrick Kane have a special sort of chemistry on the ice, but it’s very different off the ice, as many teammates, and yourselves have said. How has he handled the news?”

Jonathan couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. “Kaner has also been a big help. He has three younger sisters and was there from the beginning– in a way.”

“How do you think this will affect your performance on the ice?”

“Ah,” Jon chuckled, “I’m going to do my best to go into every game, play to win, play fun, play hard. But I think it’ll be a little difficult for me to part with her in the beginning, especially on away games. It’ll be rough, but nothing drastic should change, unless there’s a dire emergency.”

The questions kept coming, and Jonathan felt relieved that it went okay. He relaxed in his seat and promised to allow the Hawks special media and members of the team to post pictures of him and Abella, since he didn’t and wouldn’t be getting social media any time soon.

Except Twitter. Maybe a couple pictures, but not too many.

For the next week, players from all across the hockey world sent things. Crosby, and most of Team Canada, were the ones who sent the most. Seguin threw in a couple extra stuff with the Team Canada gift box, including blank Stars, Penguins, and Team Canada jerseys.

Other players in the NHL were quick and happy to send things to the Hawks captain, and even if a lot of the gifts were shit, like a Giroux jersey and a Pietrangelo shirt, Jonathan was touched that the organization game together to lend a hand.

-

The season began, and Jonny would drop off Abella with Abby or Dayna or whatever hockey wife would take her for the few hours the game would occur.

The boys had their first away game three days after the first game of the season. Jonathan about had an anxiety attack.

“She'll be okay, Tazer.” Sharpy reassured him while he, Jon, and Kaner dropped her off at the Sharp’s place. “I know I seem a little childish-”

Kaner snorted, “A little?”

Sharpy shot him a look, “You, shut up. You're not helping. Jon, I have two daughters and both of them are still breathing. Abby and I will take care of her. I promise.”

“What if she forgets me?” Jonathan panicked, “What if she doesn't remember who I am when I get home?” He held Abella closer to his chest at the thought.

“That's ridiculous.” Sharpy scoffed. “You're her father. She's never going to forget you.”

“But-”

“ _No buts_ , Jonny. Everything is going to be okay. I'll Skype you when you get to the hotel so you can see her, if it'll make you feel better. She will be _fine_.”

Jonathan took a deep, shuddery breath, and nodded. “Okay. I- okay.”

He pressed a gentle, lingering kids to the top of her head and closed his eyes, reveling in the moment. Then, he carefully, hesitantly, handed his daughter over to Sharpy.

Sharpy cradled her carefully, and Abella wiggled around, arms flailing when she realized she wasn't being held by her father.

Jonathan surged forward for her, but Kaner held him back. “Easy, buddy, easy. Hold on.”

Sharpy shushed her softly. He’d had been over almost every day to help Jonathan out, and the latter had been eternally grateful for it. Abella took in the sense of Sharpy and deemed him safe, so when she took notice of who exactly was holding her, she calmed down.

Jonathan gulped and broke his arm free of Kaner’s hand. “Alright. You've got the baby bags and her toys. My number, my mom’s number. Kaner, I feel like I forgot something? What am I forgetting? Maybe I shouldn't go on this trip…”

“Stop talking like that.” Kaner held up his hand. “You're over thinking. Like Sharpy and I said: everything is fine. We need you out there. Abella’s only a Skype call away.”

It took another ten minutes for them to leave, but Kaner was finally able to heard Jonathan out of the house.

The game against Kings went good. The Hawks came out on top by one, courtesy of Kaner, with Jon assisting on one of the three goals.

Reporters came bustling in after the game, and many went right for Jonathan.

“What's it like to be so far away from Abella for the first time?” Was the first question asked, and it was surprising to Jonathan.

“Not gonna lie, now that I don’t have the game to distract me, I’m panicking again.” He laughed a little. “It’s hard, but she’s in good hands.”

“You got an assist on one of the goals tonight. Do you think you did better or worse than usual? The same? And does it have anything to do with Abella?”

Jonathan rubbed the towel around his neck onto his face, wiping away the sweat sliding down his face. “Uh, you know, every game, every goal, has something dedicated to it. This was the first game away from her and playing eased me a little, so I think I played pretty okay for my nerves being shot to hell. There’s always room for improvement and I could have done better, but I think I did alright.”

There were a couple more questions fired off before the reporters were shooed out. Jonathan and the team changed and headed to the bus to go to the hotel. He plugged in his earbuds and started Skyping Sharpy as soon as he sat on the bus.

Kaner, who sits in the middle, compared to Jon sitting either in the front of the back, sat in his normal spot and turned around, just in time to see Jonathan beam at his phone screen.

Kaner sat back in his seat, content, but went to sleep at the hotel feeling a small hole in his chest after watching Jonathan tear up when he said goodbye and finally logged off of Skype.

-

Jonathan was rushing through the condo as soon as he got in, Kaner following behind with both duffels in his arms.

Sharpy was waiting for them, sitting on the couch with Disney Junior on the television, holding Abella. He was up and offering her to Jon before Kaner could even close the door.

Abella saw him and squealed, and Jonathan surged forward to collect her, gathering her in his arms and holding her as close to him as possible.

“Hi. Hi little girl.” He whispered, kissing the top of her head, soft hair brushing against his lips and underside of his nose, “I missed you so much.” He exhaled in visible relief of having her close. “ _Tu m'as manqué, ma petite fille._ ”

Kaner walked over, phone out with a grin on his face. “I am so happy I caught that on video.”

Just to be an asshole, Kaner sent it to Jonathan, and the captain felt his phone in his pocket buzz with the text.

“I’m gonna head home.” Sharpy grabbed his things. “You coming, Peeks?”

Kaner turned to look at Jonathan, who was talking softly in French down at his baby daughter, her arms up reaching towards his face.

A small, fond smile settled on his lips. “No, I’m gonna stay and help out Tazer.”

Sharpy patted him on the shoulder and headed out, shouting to call of they needed anything. Kaner went to the kitchen to dial the Chinese place they loved to order at while Jonathan went to the couch and laid across it, Abella nestled in his arms and on his chest.

Jonny’s voice was far off and light when he called out, “Hey Patrick, can you make her-”

“-a bottle. Already on it.” He replied, shaking up the water and formula mixture in the bottle while he waited around for the food.

He put the bottle on the coffee table in the living room, in front of the couch where Jonathan was weakly humming along to the Disney Junior theme song, eyes droopy and voice thick with tiredness.

The food arrived and Patrick dished it out on plates, sitting down by the coffee table on the floor. Jonathan didn’t even look at his food, eyes never leaving Abella, who was dozing on Jon’s chest, his shirt balled into her tiny fists.

“Jonny, buddy, you’ve gotta eat.” Patrick insisted gently. “You haven’t eaten since before the game last night. It’s almost midnight tonight.”

Jonathan sat up, reached towards the food, grabbed the bottle, and started feeding Abella.

Patrick sighed and got to his knees, shuffling to the edge of the couch by Jon’s head. He picked up a piece of sweet and sour chicken and put it at Jonathan’s lips. “I’ll feed you if I have to. Eat.”

Jonathan reluctantly allowed Kaner to feed him prices of chicken and forkfuls of rice, while Abella drank from her bottle. When they were both done, Jonathan looked about ready to pass out.

“Hey, come on,” Pat whispered, nudging Jonathan to stay awake, “Let's put her to bed, okay?”

Jonathan glared tiredly.

Patrick bit his lip. “Alright. Hold on. Don’t fall asleep.” He ran off into the bedroom and quickly set up the playpen that was stashed under the bed.

Carefully, he helped Jonathan to his feet, Abella being held up by both their arms, and he led them to the bedroom. It took some struggle from Jonathan not allowing him to take her, but Patrick was able to get Abella in the playpen and Jonathan on the bed.

“No,” Jonathan whined, reaching out for her, “Pat-”

“You need to sleep, Jon,” Patrick gently pushed his arms back down and draped the duvet over him. “She's safe right here next to you. She's not going anywhere.”

Jonathan grumbled and Lord have mercy on Patrick’s soul, a tired Jonny acted as if he were drunk- lazy and soft and way too dependant on other people.

Jon fell asleep pretty quickly after that. It took a couple minutes for Patrick to decide he would stay the night, just in case.

He made sure all the lights were off, doors and windows locked, then headed off to the guest bedroom. He still had pajamas in his duffel, so he changed into those and slid into bed, leaving the door open so he could hear for Abella.

Less than an hour later, Abella started crying.

Patrick took a moment to register what was happening. He shuffled to his feet and down the hall to Jonny’s room, hoping to calm both Abella and Jonathan back to sleep.

Jonathan was up and rocking Abella when Pat got into the room, and Jonathan looked.up startled, then surprised. “You're still here?”

His voice was raspy and tired, and it made a single shiver shoot down Patrick’s spine.

“Yeah,” he responded, voice drowsy with sleep, “You were pretty out of it earlier. Figured I'd stay and help out.”

Jonathan smiled, a soft, fond one that Patrick rarely ever saw. He smiled back just as soft, and walked forward. “You can go back to sleep. I think she just wanted some attention.”

When Abella went back to sleep, both men went back to their respective beds. However, Abella pitched a fit again an hour later.

Jonathan changed her diaper while Patrick watched from a distance, in case he needed any assistance. They both stayed up another ten minutes till she fell asleep again.

They were able to get another hour and a half before she started wailing again.

It continued like that for the rest of the night and into the early stages of morning light.

Jonathan was making a bottle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he shook up the formula. He watched from the open space above the bar into the other room as Patrick walked around the living room with Abella, who was screaming her lungs out.

“Here you go.” Jonathan yawned, handing the bottle to Patrick, who gave it to Abella, who silenced except for the occasional whimpers.

“Holy fuck, is that what night are like every night?” Patrick asked, eyes wide.

“Not every night.” Jonathan replied, going to make breakfast. “but a lot of them. Maman said it was normal to go from a calm newborn to a fussy infant.”

“And, what, you just wake up every time she cries?” Questioned Patrick, incredulously.

“Mhm,” the captain hummed, “My dad says to let her cry, and she’ll tire herself out, but I can't do that, you know? What if something’s wrong? Besides, you think I’d be able to sleep through her screaming? I'd start crying with her.” He snorted, pulling out the waffle maker.

“She's got your stubbornness, probably,” the blond shrugged, “She'd just cry until you came and got her, no matter how long it would be.”

Jonathan smiled at the thought.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the surprisingly soothing suckling sounds Abella made while she drank her bottle.

“She's comfortable with you, you know.” Jonny mentioned, sliding some waffles onto a plate before making another set, “She’s not like that with the others, even Sharpy.”

Patrick’s chest clenched at the words. He looked down towards Abella, who was quietly pulling her drink from the bottle held in Pat’s fingers, eyes closed constantly and head laying on his chest.

And for once in his life, Patrick was speechless.

There was another beat of silence, before Patrick said, “I've been thinking.”

Jonathan snorted, “That's never good.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

“Watch your mouth around my child.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “ _I've been thinking_ ,” he repeated, before going pilliant and meek, “Especially after last night, I think- maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if I moved in with you two.”

Jonathan looked up in surprise, but found Patrick staring down at Abella so he wouldn't have to meet Jonathan’s eyes.

“You- you want to move in with me?” Jon asked for confirmation.

Slowly, Patrick nodded. “You seem like you could use some help, at least for the time being while she's so little. But I don't want to be an inconvenience, so of course, only if you want to!” He deflated a bit, and repeated, softer, “Only if you want to.”

There was more silence, and then a hand in his shoulder. Patrick looked up to find Jonathan standing behind him. “Are you sure? There's a lot of nights like last night. You're one of our top players. I don't want you to be dead on game days.”

“I'll be fine, Jon.” Patrick assured, “I want to help you. Plus, I think Abella’s grown on me as much as I've grown on her.”

They both looked towards the little girl, who'd made a quiet whine. She'd shifted a little to her side, one hand draped over the middle of the bottle, other fist clenching Patrick’s shirt. She was staring at them with big, curious, dark blue eyes. She reached her free hand out towards Jonathan, who held out his finger, which she happily grabbed onto.

The boys turned back to each other with beaming smiles and knew that yeah, Patrick was definitely moving in.

-

Within the next week, Patrick was fully moved into the guest bedroom.

He was instantly a huge help, and made just as huge of a difference.

Jonathan was calmer now that he had help, and Abella was calmer now that her father was calmer.

The team only noticed just how calm Jonny had been when he was suddenly very panicked right after they'd creamed the Devils 6-1 on Hawks ice.

Reporters were throwing questions about the game and Abella, but Jonny didn't answer any of them, ignoring them all as he talked in a rushed voice to someone on the phone.

He hung up, and the reporters were being forced to talk to other players. Kaner went over to him with a moderately worried expression. “What's wrong?”

“Sharpy said Abella hit her head on the side of her crib during her nap,” Jonathan fretted, “It wouldn't be as big of a deal if it wasn't for the fact that she’s been crying for a straight hour.”

Patrick frowned. “Do you need to leave?”

“No, Sharpy’s going to bring her.”

Patrick frowned harder, “Are you sure? It's so loud.”

But Jonathan’s mind was made up, and within ten minutes, Sharpy was making his way through the locker room with a screaming Abella squirming in his hold.

Jonathan was surging forward as soon as he saw them and Abella leaned to him. He held her protectively, shushing her and rocking her to calm her down.

She fisted his shirt and cried into the fabric, but little by little, she quieted. Jon sat on the bench, Abella in his lap and held to his chest, and Patrick sat down next to him to say hi to her. Abella opened and closed her hand at him multiple times, and let out a frustrated whine. Patrick held out his arm and Abella clutched the hairband on his wrist tightly, so he couldn't get away from her.

The people in the locker room took in the scene with eminence shock.

“Up for some questions?” Q asked them quietly, as to not disturb the baby in his captain’s arms.

Jonathan nodded wordlessly and the reporters walked over.

“Guys, do us a favor and turn of the flashes,” Patrick requested, “Flashing lights bother her eyes.”

The reporters respectively did as they were asked, eager to get some snapshots of Jonathan and his daughter.

“So this is Abella?” Greg, one of the reporters asked, “She was pretty upset coming in here. Is she alright?”

Jonathan noticed he didn't have his recording device on, and he smiled a little at the genuine concern he was showing.

“She's fine. Hit her head and freaked a bit, but she's fine.” He responded, petting Abella’s hair. “I don't know why she’s pitching such a fit, though.” His stomach dropped. “Patrick, do you think she's sick?”

“I doubt it.” Patrick replied, feeling her forehead, “She doesn't seem like she has a fever.”

“You two seem very close, and to have gotten much closer after Abella was born.” Another reporter, Harry, mentioned, “Is there anything going on the Blackhawk fans should know about?”

There was a judging look on his face, and Patrick got defensive.

“Tazer’s family is in Winnipeg,” he answered, “He needed a bit of help and I decided to throw in my two cents.”

“You got a goal this game, Jonathan,” Anthony, another reporter, got off the topic, “Your first this season. Was it for Abella, or someone else?”

“Definitely for Abella,” was the immediate answer, and Jon looked down at her when she made a noise, petting her head soothingly, “She’s only four months old, but she's already my everything.”

Other questions passed, but the Harry couldn't stop looking at Patrick.

-

Patrick sat down next to Jonny on the couch one day, “So, have you been protected?”

Jonathan lifted his eyes, “Huh?”

“You know,” Pat shrugged, “with girls. You’ve been careful now that you've got Abella?”

Jonny blinked.

“Sex, Tazer. I'm talking about sex.”

Jon’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape. “Oh. Uh,” he blushed, scratching the back of his neck, “I haven't actually, you know, had sex. Not since before Abella was born.”

Patrick’s eyes went wide. “Wait, _what?_ Jonathan, that's over four months.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “You've at least, like, jerked one out, right?”

Jonathan didn't meet his eyes, “I never had the time. Abella's been my main priority.”

“Dude, that's insane.” Patrick shook his head, “Why don't you go, like, rub one off?”

Jon looked at him in surprise, “Like, right now?”

“Yes, right now. Abella’s taking a nap. I'll listen for her. You go take care of yourself.”

“Patrick, it's really not necessary…”

Patrick gave him a sharp look, one that sent a shiver down Jonny’s spine. That, plus the knowledge of the fact that he's literally about to masturbate again after four and a half months, has him chubbing up in his pants already.

Damn. Maybe he did need this.

“I'll handle Abella.” Patrick shooed him down the hall, “Now go. Man’s gotta take care of himself sometimes, too.”

Jonathan closed the door, burying himself under the blankets of his bed. His face was hot in embarrassment. His teammate had just told him to go masturbate while he wasn't even three rooms over.

He settled into the pillows, tucked warmly underneath the covers. He slowly shimmied off his pants and boxer briefs, semi-harness resting in the divet of his hip.

He closed his eyes, hand trailing from his abs to the base of his dick, splaying his fingers up his length to the tip. He shivered, dick thickening up even more. He wrapped his hand around the tip and started to work, pumping up and down, thumb swirling around the tip and dipping into the slit.

He thought of Patrick, in the next room over, rocking Abella and talking to her aimlessly, knowing that Jonathan was on the other side of the wall, a hand on his cock, trying to get off.

He let out a small moan at the thought of Patrick being so close, so close but won't help.

It would be over to quick if he did.

Patrick’s ace at sex, and Jon could only imagine what he'd to to him.

He’d kneel between Jonny’s legs, hands rubbing up and down the insides of the captain’s thighs. His hot breath would puff out onto his dick.

Jonathan trembled squeezing his eyes shut as a slowed his pumping down, trying to make the moment last longer.

Patrick would press kisses around his cockhead, because he's an asshole and loves to tease, before pumping it in quick, steady strokes, not enough, but at the same time, just enough.

Jonny’s hand enclosed around the head of his dick as he imagined Patrick putting it in his mouth, sucking and licking enough to drive Jonathan insane.

He’d focus on sucking the head while tightening his grip on the rest of Jonny’s length, and he'd tighten his hand and pump fast, up down twist suck, up down twist suck, up twist suck down, up suck down twist-

Jonathan’s thighs clenched as he spasmed, throwing his head back, coming in hot spurts, white ropes landing on his chest and pecks. He moaned loudly, almost a groan, because he forgot how good it felt to come.

He panted as he came down from his high, barely there when he registered just what got him to that high, and he closed his eyes.

Fuck.

He cleaned himself up and took a moment to clear his head, gathering his courage to look Patrick in the eye again.

Patrick was in the nursery, feeding Abella, and smiled at Jonathan when he came in. “Better?”

Jonathan gave a weak smile back. “Yeah.”

-

When Abella was four and a half months old, even with the season, Jonathan had tried to spend as much time as he could researching important milestones he should be noticing.

There was when Jonathan was on his stomach with Abella on the jungle playmat -- Patrick’s mother had sent it down -- in front of him. She was on her back, kicking her chubby little legs as she stared up at all the plush animals and buttons to push. She was still a little too young to like the loud noises the buttons made, but she loved the small stuffed monkey dangling from the very middle.

She'd rolled over onto her stomach -- something she’d been doing recently, but she was never able to lift her head up, so Jonathan had to roll her back over before she suffocated.

This time however she’d lifted her head, all by herself.

“ _Patrick_ ,” Jonny grinned, catching her head when it got too heavy for her to hold up for so long, “Come here!”

Patrick walked into the room and laid down on his stomach next to Jonathan, “What's going on?”

“Look! Watch, watch.” Jon carefully put Abella’s cheek onto the mat and waited. A handful of seconds passed before Abella lifted her head again and stared at the men with a big-eyed look.

Patrick broke out into a grin. “She lifted her head! Oh my god, look at her go!”

He lifted her up and maneuvered so he was on his back and she was on his chest. Jon turned over, too, and they laid on the floor of the condo, taking in the small, yet heart-clenching moment in Abella’s life.

There was the time where Jonathan was walking around after a hard game, Abella in his arms, while he rubbed her belly. His fingers splayed against her sides and she jumped to life, squealing and giggling with laughter.

Patrick, who was on the floor – it's Patrick, of course he's on the floor – hit his head on the table at the sound. They met eyes, wide smiles on their faces at Abella’s first laugh.

Now Abella was a little ways passed five months old.

It was around the middle of the day on a Saturday. The boys didn't have practice, nor did they have a game, so they were lounging around with condo, playing with Abella while watching the afternoon game between the Sabres and the Hurricanes.

“Daddy.” Jonathan sounded out to Abella, trying to get her to talk early on. “Say ‘daddy'. Da-ddy.”

“More like ‘Mommy’,” Kaner snorted, and received a whack to the leg for his troubles. “Ow! I'm just saying, man.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and tried again, but Abella just looked down at him with a curious expression, drool across her chin and the fingers shoved in her mouth.

“Hey, don't chew on your fingers.” Jonny reprimanded, tugging her hand from her mouth, “Bad habits.”

Abella stuffed her hand back into her mouth as soon as he let go.

“No.” Jonathan tried, removing her hand again, “No fingers.”

Abella gave a high-pitched whine and nibbled on her fingers again.

“Abella!” The Canadian sighed in exasperation. “I said no.” He pulled her hand out again and held it to her side.

She looked at him on betrayal, eyes beginning to water.

He groaned, “ _Abella_.”

The little girl sputtered into cries, that turned to wails, that turned to almost shrieks, and Jonathan shot up in sudden terror. “ _Patrick!_ ”

Patrick stumbled to his feet at the terrified tone in Jon’s voice. “What? What's happening?”

“She's in pain!” Jonathan panicked, standing up and holding her in his arms. “You remember the three cries I told you about? She's hurting. Fuck, what's going on?”

“What happened before she started crying?” Patrick asked, rushed, hand cradling the back of her head. Abella shoved her hand in her mouth, but the wails didn't cease.

“Her hands. I kept pulling her hands out of her mouth cause she kept sucking them.” Jonathan looked about a hair away from crying, too.

Patrick took Abella’s wrist and pulled out her hand, then put his finger in her mouth to see if any of that was the problem.

Abella continued to sob pitifully, and Patrick figured out what was wrong.

“I think she's teething.” He told his friend, taking his finger out. “I feel bumps in her gums.”

Jonathan hooked his thumb in the side of her lips to look at her mouth. Sure enough, there was a little white tooth that had begun to poke out through her gums, with a bump on the right side next to the tooth.

He blinked, trying to clear his panic-fogged brain. “Okay, go into the freezer and get a teething ring. I'd put them in there a couple days ago.”

Patrick ran to do what he was asked, bringing back a teal teething ring. Jonathan put it in Abella’s mouth, and slowly, the cries calmed as she gnawed on the ice cold plastic.

Jonathan sighed out in relief, holding her head to his peck, almost as if it could take away the pain. “She's early.” He said, breathlessly, “By three weeks, I think.”

“Better to get it over with, I guess.” Patrick shrugged, idly caressing Abella’s hair on the back of her head with his thumb.

“Yeah.” The captain sniffled, “I don't want to hear that kind of cry ever again, shit. It almost gave me a heart attack.”

“She's alright now, Jonny.” Pat assured him, free hand coming to squeeze Jonathan’s shoulder. “She's alright.”

-

“Do we have everything?” Jonathan worried, Abella strapped in her carseat, which was clutched in his hand, “Fuck, where's the baby bag?”

“In the passenger's seat of your car, Tazer.” Patrick rolled his eyes, “Stop freaking out. You've got everything you need.”

Jonathan nodded, but went nervous again. “I've never taken her on a plane before.”

“People travel with babies younger than Abella all the time.” Kaner raised his eyebrows. “She’ll be fine and so will you. Now let’s go before you miss your flight.”

Jonathan was spending half of his Christmas vacation up in Winnipeg with his family, Patrick in Buffalo with his. Jon’s flight left in four hours, and Patrick's flew out the next day.

It took another half hour to get Jonathan to the airport, and Patrick had to urge Jonathan through the tunnel to board his plane. He'd never admit it, but he was a little nervous about them being on a plane, too.

He’d also never admit that, that night, he condo seemed blood-chillingly empty. He didn't like it at all.

But, on the third of January, exactly two weeks after they left and one week to go on vacation, Jonathan and Patrick flew back to Chicago to spend Abella’s first Christmas together.

They weren't together on Christmas morning, but the morning they got back might as have been, because the team had sent gifts for Jonathan (Abella), including Patrick, and the men exchanged their own gifts for one another.

Turns out, great minds think alike.

Jonathan had gotten Patrick a picture frame, and inside was a picture of the three of them on the couch, Abella in Patrick’s hands and Jonny with his arms crossed, a look of annoyance on his face. (Sharpy had snapped the picture).

Abella was in a cute little onesie when she was two months old. Patrick remembered the onesie: it was a pastel turquoise, and on the back across the shoulders, Pat had written KANE, with an 88 in the middle. It was a joke and made Jonny a little mad, but it was the onesie Patrick adored.

Jonathan tore the plain red wrapping paper off the gift, and slowed, carefully tugging away the paper when he saw the gift.

Patrick had also given him a picture frame. Inside was the picture André had taken of Jonathan and Abella the first day she'd met them at the hospital. Jonathan was leaning against the pillows of the hospital bed, face tired. But Abella was in his arms, swaddled in white blanket, and he was smiling down at her with all the adoration in the world.

Jonathan’s eyes watered a little. It was only four or so months ago, that she was that small, a newborn. She was growing by the minute now, but she still fit so snugly in his arms.

“I-” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, blinking back the tears, “uh, thank you. This- it's, uh…”

“Don't worry about it, man.” Pat smiled at him, just as teary-eyed, “Thank you, too. It's great.”

The two shared watery smiles, turning to Abella, who was taking a nap in the playpen by the Christmas tree, and everything was perfect, for one, single moment.

-

But, that perfect moment didn't last forever.

As Abella passed her seven month mark, she still hadn't spoken more than a couple sounds and “ma”, which she used for everything: calling for people, cheering, asking for things. It meant nothing and wasn't even a word, just a syllable.

Jonathan was frustrated, but André assured him that many babies were slow to learn words, and that she was “only seven months old. There’s plenty of time for her to learn.”

It didn't help Jonathan settle his worries.

Currently, the boys were on a weeklong away trip, playing in New York, Vegas, LA, and Dallas, only one day of rest the entire trip, set between the Islanders game and the Knights game.

They were getting ready to go to the Dallas arena for pregame practice, when Seabs came knocking on their hotel door.

“Hey man.” Patrick greeted, throwing on his shirt, “What brings you by?”

“Wanted to check on you two.” He replied, “Being away from your kid so long can make someone go insane. Trust me, I’d know.”

Jonathan smiled small, “We’re doing alright.”

“We?” Patrick asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Jonathan’s smile wavered a little bit. “I mean, yeah. You miss her too, right?”

“Well, yeah, but like, you make it sound like I’m her father, too.” Kaner huffed. He didn’t know why he was getting so upset. “I’m not.”

Jonathan recoiled, as if he’d been slapped.

“You’ve...seen the articles, right?” Seabs questioned cautiously, pulling out his phone, “Deadspin?”

“What articles?” Kaner demanded, stalking over to his older teammate.

Seabs googled ‘ _Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane kid_ ’ and handed the phone to Kaner. His eyes bugged at all the articles that came up. He clicked on the Deadspin link and read it with quick eyes, seeking angry and upset and very confused.

“‘Kane was reportedly moving in with Toews in early December,’” he read, “‘Toews was much more relaxed after the period of moving ended, and seemingly, so was Kane. Their teammates agreed.’”

“Keep going.” Brent urged.

“‘Is the dynamic duo of Chicago _an item?_ ’ Fucking, ‘Let us know below.’ Seabs, what the fuck is this?”

Brent shrugged helplessly. “There’s been tons of articles on it. Most of them are poorly written conspiracy theories, but they're everywhere. I'm surprised you haven't seen them.”

“We've been busy with Abella.” Jonathan frowned, and Patrick glared accusingly, “Stop saying ‘we.’ She's your daughter. Not mine. We’re not in a relationship.”

“I- I know that, Patrick,” Jonathan shrunk back a little, “But you still care about her. And since when have you ever cared about what the media says? Especially when it's not true.”

“Because they're calling me _gay_ ,” the blond snapped, “Calling _us_ gay.”

“Not necessarily, just that we’re together.” Jon shrugged. “Besides, what’s the big deal? We know we’re not dating. It’ll blow over eventually, like Madison.”

“Madison is a _place_ , an _event_!” Patrick exclaimed, “Abella is a _living thing_. It’s not going to blow over just as easy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seabs, can you give us a minute?”

Seabs nodded, frowning, “Yeah, sure.” He headed out the door, shooting a worried look at the two. He shouldn’t have mentioned the articles.

The door closed, and Patrick sighed. “Look, I love Abella, and you’re one of my best friends. But I don’t want the world to think I’m gay, or dating my captain. I can’t-” He looked down at his feet, “I think I should go back to my apartment, stay away from you guys for a little while outside the rink.”

Jonathan stared at Patrick, and a sinking feeling started building in his gut. “What?”

“You might be okay with being called gay, but I'm not.” Patrick told him.

Jon balled his hands into fists. “Abella needs you! I need you! I can't do this on my own!”

“You're a grown man,” Kaner scoffed, “You'll be fine.”

“What about Abella?” Jonathan argued, “She needs you. You've been there since she was a month old, Kaner. You can't leave her.”

“Don't say shit like that, man.” Kaner rolled his eyes. “She'll be fine, too.”

Jonathan’s face went red in anger. “So what? You’re just gonna walk out? You promised you'd help me.”

“It's not my fault you fucked up, man!” Patrick yelled, “That's not my problem to deal with!”

Jonathan froze, face falling in a wave of hurt. He fought to keep his voice steady, but failed when the words, “Abella is _not_ a problem,” came out shaky.

Kaner huffed in annoyance. “Oh really? She doesn't shut up, man. Your mom said she was an angel when she was a newborn, but obviously something changed and she turned into some demon spawn. A-plus parenting, right there.”

Jonathan couldn't breathe. Despite himself, his eyes filled with tears, and he looked at Patrick in utter betrayal.

“Get out.”

Kaner furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“I said _get out!_ ” Jonathan yelled, pointing at the door. “Take your shit and get out of my sight! You do _not_ call my daughter a problem. She's not a demon spawn. What the _fuck_ , Kaner? You were the one who volunteered to help me. I _told_ you I didn't know what I was doing. I _told_ you I was scared. I _trusted_ you with _everything_. Now get out before I give you a shiner right the fuck now.”

Kaner stared at him, anger surging from him. He shook his head and grabbed his bags, “Fine! It's not like I want to help, anyway.”

“ _OUT_.” Jonathan screamed, and Patrick muscled his way out the door with a thrown-back, “Fuck you!”

Jonathan slammed the door shut and fell back against it, sliding down the door and onto the floor. He curled up in a ball and let himself cry, for the first time since he called Patrick seven months ago.

-

The game was shit. Dallas may have only won 3-1, but Jonathan and Patrick were off their A-Game, which threw off most of the others on the team. Dallas got turnovers and the Hawks shots on goal were messy and spur-of-the-moment.

By the time the team got to the locker room Kaner and Tazer were shouting at each other, and Jonathan was a hair away from giving Kaner that shiner he threatened earlier.

“Hey, hey,” Duncs interrupted them, yelling over their voices, “What's going on between you two?”

“Don't fucking say it like that!” Patrick shouted, glaring at Duncs.

Jonathan scoffed. “For fucks sake, all he asked was why we were fighting. Don't be such a fucking baby.”

“You better watch yourself.”

“Oh yeah? What're you gonna do?”

“I'm gonna put my fist in your mouth, that's what I'm gonna do.”

“Woah woah woah, take it easy.” Seabs pushed them apart, Brinksy scurrying over to Jonathan to help push him away. “Care to explain what's going on?”

Jonathan glared at Kaner over Seabs’s shoulder. “Why don't you ask him?” He snapped.

“He's being a baby because I don't want people to think I'm gay!”

“Do you even know what you called my daughter, you fucking asshole?” Jonathan roared.

“Both of you need to shut up and sit down.” Q snapped, walking into the room. “What's going on?”

Jonathan was seething, and Patrick was no better. The captain took a couple deep breaths and closed his eyes, feeling his nose tingle, a sign that his eyes were about to water.

He turned away from them and went back to his stall. “Don't worry about it, Q. It doesn't matter anymore.”

“Oh, so I don't matter, huh?”

“Just _shut up_ , Kaner!” Jon cried out, head snapping towards him, and he couldn't give a single fuck that everyone was seeing the tears in his eyes, how red-rimmed they were, how his voice cracked. He deflated, “Just leave it. You've made up your mind.”

He turned back to get changed, and after a moment, so the others followed suit. No one spoke, even when he grabbed his duffel, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out without Kaner.

He sat alone in the back of the bus, both earbuds in, as he scrolled through his camera roll, tears rolling down his cheeks as he saw each of Abella’s baby pictures, the ones with her and his mom and David and his dad, the ones of the team and so, so many of her and Kaner.

He went to his hotel room alone and Skyped Sharpy, talking to his baby girl before spilling to Sharpy everything Patrick had said. The plane left four hours later, and he boarded the back of the plane, watching sadly as Kaner talked happily with some of the team at the front.

He fell asleep most of the flight, and didn't say a word to anyone, even after Seabs came to sit next to Jonny, a hand resting comfortingly on his knee. Jonny didn't feel it. He was numb.

He continued his wordlessness as they left the plane in Chicago. Patrick was getting into another car, and Jonny knew he'd be going home alone, even though they drove to the airport in the same car.

He got back to his condo a little after two in the morning. Sharpy was awake, waiting for him on the couch. They exchanged hugs, tighter than normal, and Sharpy whispered, “You’re not alone, Jonny. I promise, you won't go through this alone.”

He left after Jon assured him that he would be fine. Jonathan dropped his bag and took off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and locked the doors. He made his way to the nursery where Abella was sleeping, peaceful and perfect.

Jonathan watched her for a moment, before scooping her up in his arms. She shifted, and he caressed her cheek, shushing her and whispered, “Shh, you’re okay. Daddy’s here.”

He caught eyes with the rocking chair by the window. He sat down in it, putting her to his chest to cradle her body as he stared out the window at the dark night sky.

He rocked there, slowly, holding onto the only piece of sanity he had left.

“I love you so much, little girl.” He whispered, “ _Je te garderai en sécurité. Je ne te quitterai jamais. Ma douce fille. Ne me quitte pas._ ”

His teardrops fell onto her soft hair, lips to her head, rocking her into the light of the early morning.

-

Jonathan didn't leave his condo.

He took care of Abella alone, and he'd forgotten how hard it was without help.

The next few nights, Abella wouldn't sleep. She’d been away from her father too long and wanted his undivided attention. He was more than happy to give it to her, but he was mentally and physically exhausted and wasn't allowed so much as half an hour of sleep. And, Abella could tell Kaner was missing, and wasn't having any of that.

Sharpy did his best to help, the others too, but none of them had that 24/7 assistance he'd had with Kaner.

The team came over to his condo one day (Kaner included), and Crow immediately went to grab his captain.

“You know I've always got your back,” he started, “I get into fights for you on the ice. You’re my captain, and a good friend. And as a friend, I'm asking you, _please_ , let one of us take Abella, and get some sleep.”

“I'm fine.” Jonathan dismissed, but his voice cracked, “It's just been stressful lately.”

Kaner looked to the floor.

“Jon, please.” Crow begged.

Abella, as if she’d understood that they wanted to split her and Jonny up, woke up from her nap in the nursery and started crying.

Jonathan was up and down the hall before anyone could grab him.

“I feel so bad.” Hossa frowned, “He's going to give himself a heart attack.”

Sharpy met eyes with Kaner, a stern yet disappointed look radiating off the elder, and the blond averted his eyes to his lap.

He’d gotten his things the day after they got back from the away trip, which left the condo bare of pretty much everything except the furniture and Abella’s things. Jonny never liked having stuff of his out where Abella could take it and hurt herself.

Still, even with all Abella’s toys, the condo seemed bare.

_It's better this way._

The baby monitor suddenly crackled, and Jonathan’s voice came through, stopping Abella’s crying.

“I know, _ma petite fille_. It's alright. Daddy’s here. Please don’t cry.” There was a pause as her sobs subsided. “I'm trying my best, I promise. I know I'm not around as often as I should. You know I would if I could, but my team needs me.” Another pause. “It's just so hard. I'm all alone now. You’re uncles try, but it's just so much to handle.” He sniffled. “But it's okay. It'll all be okay. I'm gonna give you the best life, I promise. _Je promets_.”

And yeah, Kaner felt like shit, especially when Jonathan came back with Abella and a toothy smile that didn't reach his eyes, nor the bags underneath them.

Abella reached out for him, and for a moment, Jonny looked hopeful. But Kaner turned away and went to the bathroom, not missing the upset whine coming from the little girl.

That didn't help, either.

-

The world seemed to have Jonathan at the wrong end of a knife, because the worst thing he could ever think could happen, happened.

“So Patrick,” a reporter asked after another game gone to shit, “Both you and Toews are weakening a little on your lines. Is anything wrong with Abella that caused it, or is it something else?”

“Um, I really couldn’t tell you.” He replied, “Jonathan and I aren't living together anymore. It was only temporary, until he got into the swing of things, ya know? We've both got our lives. I've been getting used to old sleep habits, training, so that's probably why I'm in a bit of a slump.”

In his peripheral vision, He saw Jonathan clench his jaw.

“Tazer, I dunno.” He forced a believing smile.

The reporters didn't believe it, but they didn't say anything else about it.

Jonathan went home, that sinking feeling on his chest still there. He got home and greeted Abby, who'd taken babysitting shift today. She left with Maddy and Sadie, who'd accompanied her.

Abella was on her jungle playmat, gurgling and grabbing at the plush toys and strings dangling from the arch above her. Jonathan decided she was alright where she was and fled to the kitchen to make a sandwich because he’d skipped breakfast again this morning and he was starving.

He was halfway through making his dinner, when there was a crash and a sudden, sharp shriek cut through the air, and Jonathan’s blood ran cold.

The pain cry.

Jonathan immediately dropped what he had in his hands and ran into the living room. Abella was on her stomach, screaming her lungs out, blood coming from her forehead. There was a little blood on the edge of the coffee table, and some of the glass had cracked and broken off, and the plush monkey from the playmat was underneath it.

“Bella!” Jonathan yelped, picking her up and examining the gash.

It seemed pretty thick, and blood was sliding down the side of her face, staining the white shirt she was wearing. There was obviously glass sticking out of the wound, and other small pieces stuck in her skin around it. Her screams were short-lived, and they quieted, instead letting out pained whines and weak whimpers. She looked ten seconds from passing out.

“Abella, oh my god.”

Jonathan ran to the bathroom and grabbed stacks of toilet paper, holding them carefully to her head so the glass didn't go in any deeper. Then he grabbed his keys and bolted out of the condo, making a mad dash down the stairs. It was late at night, nearly eleven, so traffic wouldn't be too bad. He got to his car and strapped her into the car seat.

He sped down the highway, barely being mindful of the speed limits, and made a mad dash to the hospital. He carried her inside in a blind panic and yelled for help.

From there it was a blur, doctors and nurses buzzing by and yelling at one another for tweezers and her age and to get a trauma room ready, and then someone was pushing him back, away from the doors that were taking her away.

“No.” He called out, faintly, no strength left within him to function.

A nurse held his arm and supported most of his weight. “Sir? Sir, are you alright?”

He reached out towards the doors where they'd taken his daughter, but he couldn't feel his arm moving. His vision was blurred at the corners and his breathing was labored- fast and uneven.

“Sir, I need you to calm down, okay?” The nurse tried, shaking his arm. “She's going to be fine, but you need to breathe.”

“Abell…” He whimpered, “Abella. I need to- I-”

“I need some oxygen over here!” The nurse called out, and why was his head hurting sallo badly of a sudden?

The nurse caught him as his legs gave out, and two other nurses rushed over, one to support his other side, the other to put an oxygen mask over his mouth.

“Bring a stretcher!”

“ _Abella_ …”

And everything went black.

-

The guys were relaxing at Sharpy’s place after the game, taking it easy as they tried to come up with better ways to play because they were playing like actual pieces of _trash_.

Midway through a story about Duncs’s ex-girlfriend, the house phone rang. Abby answered it with a cheery, “Sharp household.”

Her face turned to confusion. “I'm his wife. Yes, he's here. May I ask who's calling?” The person answered, and Abby frowned, “Um, one moment please.” She walked the phone over to her husband. “It's for you.”

The group silenced as Sharpy asked, “Patrick Sharp speaking. Who's this?” His face, too, fell. “Yes, I know him. I used to work with him. I'm in his emergency contacts?”

“Who is it?” Seabs mouthed, and Sharpy waved him off.

“Yes, I'm aware- no, he never told me that. Wait, why are you calling? Is everything-” Sharpy paused while the person on the other line replied, and Sharpy suddenly went white, and he covered his mouth. “Oh my god.”

Abby crouched by him.

“Is she alright? What about him?” Sharpy asked, then, “Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you so much.” He hung up and was instantly out of his chair, rushing to get his coat from the closet.

“Who was that?” Brinksy asked.

Schmaltzy nodded, “Yeah, what's wrong?”

Sharpy tugged on his coat as fast as possible. “Abella had an accident. Tazer took her to the hospital and he fainted.”

Kaner choked on the beer in his mouth.

“I need to get down there to calm Tazer down when he wakes up.” Sharpy breathed, “Fuck, he's gonna panic.”

“What happened to her?” Patrick asked, standing up, “Is she okay?”

“I don't know. They said they'd tell me when I got there.” Sharpy responded, grabbing his keys and wallet.

“I'm going with you.” Patrick ordered firmly.

Sharpy turned swiftly and sent him one cold, hard look. Then, said, “Well hurry up.”

The drive to the hospital was nerve wracking, but walking into the building, seeing a janitor cleaning up little droplets of blood in a trail on the floor, he felt sick, knowing that was probably Abella’s.

“I'm here for Jonathan and Abella Toews.” Sharpy told the woman at the desk. “My name's Patrick Sharp. I was called down here?”

“Yes, I've got you here. Have a seat and we’ll call you soon.” She smiled.

The two took their seats, stomachs churning sickeningly. After what seemed like hours, a nurse walked in briskly. “Mr. Sharp?”

Sharpy stood quickly, as did Patrick. The nurse frowned a little. “I can't disclose any information unless you're an emergency contact or family mem-”

“I'm his boyfriend,” Patrick blurted, blinking afterwards, “Please, I- please.”

Hesitantly, the nurse nodded. “Mr. Toews brought in his daughter about two hours ago. She had a large, deep gash to the side of her head and glass stuck within both the wound and other parts of her skin. She was bleeding profusely. She lost about two and a half pints of blood.”

Patrick covered his mouth in horror.

“Mr. Toews hadn't eaten all day, it looks like, and the adrenaline and panic overworked his body, which is what caused him to faint. He’s resting now, and should be good to leave when he wakes up.”

“What about Abella?” Sharpy questioned.

“The doctors removed pretty much all of the glass. They ran an X-Ray to be sure. She should be coming out soon, if not already. It's a very delicate issue, especially for someone so young.”

“Nine months,” Patrick whispered, “She's nine months old...today.”

The nurse smiles sympathetically. “I can take you to see Mr. Toews if you'd like.”

“I want to see Abella.” Patrick demanded.

The woman frowned. “I'm sorry, Sir. But it's family only for children under the age of sixteen.”

“I'm her father’s boyfriend. I want to see Abella.” Patrick repeated, trying to keep his patience.

The woman bit her lip nervously. “Sir, I can't-”

“Listen, ma’am,” Patrick snapped, “I don't care if I'm her biological father or not. I'm her father’s boyfriend. I was there for them the moment they got to Chicago. I saw her first laugh, her first head lift, her first tooth. I _raised her_ with her father. That is my _daughter_ , and I am _going_ to see her.”

The nurse took them to Abella’s room first.

-

Bleach was the first thing he smelled when he woke up. Bleach and cleaning supplies.

Jonathan pried open his eyes and blinked at his surroundings. He brought his arm up to shield his eyes from the light that was making his migraine worse.

A sudden flood of memories came back all at once, and the panic set in again. He sat up quickly, but a pair of hands gently pushed him back down.

Sharpy smiled down at him. “Hey, Cap. Good to see you awake.”

“Abella,” he croaked out, “Where's my baby?”

“Kaner’s with her.” He told him, “She's gonna be okay. The doctors got out all the glass and closed up the gash. They're going to keep her overnight to watch her, since she's so little, but she should be okay to go home tomorrow.”

Jonathan closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. “Kaner’s with her?”

Sharpy nodded. “You should have seen him when he saw her. He refused to leave her side. That was about an hour ago. He's still down there.”

“Can I see her?”

“Nice to see you awake, Mr. Toews.” A doctor came in with a clipboard and a smile and Jonathan wanted to punch him for being so happy when his daughter was in the trauma bay. “What do you remember from before you fainted?”

“Abella hit her head on the coffee table, so I brought her here and freaked out.” He responded, clipped, “Can I see my daughter?”

“Soon. I need to make sure you're recovered before I can let you go.” The doctor went on with a list of questions that lasted a good fifteen to twenty minutes, before he finally said, “Everything seems fine. I'll clear you to leave and we can show you to your daughter and boyfriend.”

He left, and Jonathan turned to Sharpy, “Boyfriend?”

Sharpy smiled weakly, “Kaner did everything he had to, to stay by her side.”

They got Jonathan checked out, and Sharpy made him eat an apple and a bag of chips before he led him to Abella’s room, one secluded at the end of the trauma bays for babies. Sharpy knocked on the door in warning, then pushed it open.

Abella was in a baby bed, snuggled under the blankets. It was probably Patrick’s doing -- he was always good with tucking people in. A bandage was wrapped around her head, and she was fast asleep. Kaner was in the plastic chair by the bedside, holding her chubby little hand.

Her blood-stained shirt and pants were folded neatly on the bedside table, little socks resting on top, the only thing that wasn't stained.

Jonathan walked numbly over to the other chair pulled next to Kaner, and he sat down, breathing out a wounded, “Patrick,” as he stared at his daughter in horror.

Patrick’s hand came to enclose around Jonathan’s, and he laced their fingers together. Jonathan stared at Abella with such brokenness, Sharpy had to leave the room.

The two men sat there in the chairs, draped over the side of the bed, praying for a miracle.

-

Two days passed, and Abella hadn’t woken. Doctors assured the boys that, even though she had a mild concussion, she would wake up eventually. Neither left the room, and neither would, until she woke up.

Patrick and Jonny were asleep, slouched against each other uncomfortably in the plastic-covered recliner the nurses had brought in for them. The two had shared the recliner since it came, without so much as a chirp, laying together underneath the heating blanket, hunched over each other for comfort.

Patrick would always hold Jonathan’s hand, and Jonathan would always put his head on Patrick’s shoulder.

Jonathan woke up on the second day to quiet whispering and a gentle hand over his forehead. His eyelids fluttered as he opened them, and he saw his mother peering down at him, soft and teary-eyed.

“Maman?” He whispered, voice nearly gone from the amount of crying he was fine with admitting he did.

André smiled at him. “Yes, _mon cher._ ” He brushed back his hair. “Your father is here, too, and David.” She glanced at Patrick, who was asleep against Jonathan’s neck. “His family came, too. They're waiting in the waiting room for your approval to come in.”

“Please,” he begged, voice just as quiet as before, “Let them in. Please.”

André turned her head to talk to someone behind her -- Bryan, it looked like -- and told him to bring them up.

David crouched next to the recliner by his older brother. “Hey big bro,” he smiled small, “You okay?”

Jonathan closed his eyes. No. He really wasn't.

Soon, Donna, Tiki, and the girls were bustling in as quiet as possible. Jonathan nudged Patrick awake as Donna made her way over, next to André.

Patrick cracked his eyes open drowsily. “Whassat?” His eyes focused on his mother. “Mom?”

“Hi baby,” she grabbed his hand, the one that wasn't desperately clutching Jonathan’s, “How are you two doing?”

Patrick sighed out shakily, looking towards Abella in the little bed made for babies. “She still hasn't woken up.”

“I know, darling.” André squeezed his knee through the blankets. “But her Daddy’s a hockey player, and all of her uncles on the team, and David, and you. She'll be just fine.”

Jonathan sniffled. “She's all I have, Maman. I can't lose her.”

André’s eyes filled with tears. “You won't, baby, you won't.”

Erica, Jackie, and Jess crowded around Abella’s bed.

“So this is how I meet my niece.” Erica murmured, “That's a cruel joke, Universe.”

“Where’re you staying?” Jonathan mumbled, fixing the blanket, “I've only got my room and the guest room.”

“We’ve set up camp at a hotel.” Tiki responded, “The two of you don't need anymore stress on your shoulders. You just take your time, and we’re a street away at the Holiday Inn if you need us.”

Jonathan nodded tiredly, eyes fluttering tiredly. He laid his head against Patrick’s, looking up at him. “What about you?”

“You and Abella need me.” Replied Patrick, “I shouldn't have left.”

Jonathan hummed, falling back asleep in Patrick’s arms.

Abella woke up at four in the afternoon, three days after Jonathan brought her in.

Bryan, David, Tiki, Jess, and Jackie were down in the cafeteria. André, Donna, and Erica were in the chairs the nurses brought them yesterday, and Jonathan and Patrick were in the recliner, watching the tv across the room on the wall.

Jonathan was the one who heard it first, unsurprisingly. The small, meek cry-out made Jonathan sit straight up and look to the bed.

His eyes watered when he saw Abella squirming around in the bed, ready to scream her lungs out.

The father sprung up and tripped over the blanket caught around his ankles. “Abella!”

Everyone in the room looked up instantly, and Jonathan fell to his knees next to her, hands cupping her cheeks to calm her down.

“Shh, you’re alright baby,” he cooed, and Patrick frantically got next to him, “Daddy’s right here. I'm right here.” He caressed her hair, down to her chin, tears falling down his face in relief.

Patrick grabbed her foot with a watery smile. “Hey, bug.”

Abella settled when she realized who was there, she was safe. She weakly reached her arms out to Jonathan making grabby hands. “ _Dada_.”

Jonathan and Patrick simultaneously burst into tears.

Doctors and nurses came in and out through the next hour to check on her and run some tests, and the main doctor who had worked on her, Dr. Delancy, assured them that, if everything looked good in the morning, she could go home.

It was a flurry of tears and hugs for the next hours, until morning came and Dr. Delancy officially discharged Abella.

Both boys had completely forgotten they'd missed two games and three practices, and will probably miss a couple more. They didn't remember until they got to Jonny’s condo, and they were met with boxes of get-well packages from Q, the team, and other members of the NHL.

Their families stayed at the condo until nightfall and retreated to the hotel with kisses and promises to be back in the morning.

Patrick closed the door and was met with an empty living room. He made his way to the nursery, where he found Jonathan watching over Abella’s crib.

“Hey,” Patrick spoke quietly, walking next to him, “You okay?”

Jonathan held his elbows, arms crossed over his chest. “I don't know.” He admitted. “I could have lost her. It would have been my fault.”

“No it wouldn't,” Patrick responded immediately, “Jonny, you did everything you could. I should never have left. I overreacted and because of that, I wasn't here to watch her. I knew you were still new to this, but I still left.”

Jonathan stayed silent, watching the steady rise and fall of Abella’s breathing.

“Jonathan, I was scared to death when Sharpy told me about Abella.” Pat continued, “I can only imagine how you felt. You passed out, man. And I wasn't there to help.”

He paused and turned to face Jonathan, who looked up and met his eyes for the first time since they left the hospital.

“I promise, that as long as you want me to,” he held Jonathan’s palm and laced their fingers together, “I'll be here to help you.”

Jonathan worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I can't read between your lines, Pat. You've gotta tell me what you're saying, so I know w-”

Patrick didn't let him finish. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Jonny’s. His free hand came up to cup the back of Jonny’s head, other hand unwrapping from Jonathan's to rest on his waist.

Jonathan kissed back just as emotionally, one hand fisting the front of Patrick’s shirt, the other coming to press against Pat’s back.

“I'm so sorry, Jonny,” Patrick pulled back and sniffled, “I freaked out because everything thought I was gay. I was worried about what others thought, you were right, I didn't need to. The only opinions I care about is what you think of me. And I fucked up. I said so many things about Abella. I was just angry. I didn't mean any of them, I-”

“Shh,” Jonny pressed a finger to Pat’s lips, “It's okay. You're okay, Pat. It's all okay.”

Abella let out a little whine, being woken up by the noise of talking. Patrick wrapped his arms around Jonathan. “Let's move, so she can sleep.” He whispered, lips hot against his ear.

Jonathan, who hadn't touched himself in months, hasn't picked up anyone since before Abella was born, stiffened immediately. He blushed as Patrick muscled them out of the nursery, closing the door and turning up the volume on the baby monitor.

Patrick led them to the bedroom, but Jonathan pushed back a little.

“You're still new to this.” Jon fretted. “Everything just happened so fast. I don't want you to…”

“You've done this before?” Patrick asked.

Jonathan nodded wordlessly.

Patrick cupped his cheeks. “I'm not going anywhere, I told you, alright? I-I love you. I told those doctors I was your boyfriend, that Abella was my daughter. I meant every word, Jon. Every fucking word.”

He crashed their lips together again, and they fell onto Jonny’s bed. Shoes and socks came off, then shirts and pants and boxers.

Jonathan was rock hard and Patrick was on his way there.

“I remember that night, that I told you to go jack off in here while I watched Abella.” Patrick whispered, hands roaming everywhere on Jonathan’s body. “Shit, do you know what I had to do to not get turned on? It was so hot, knowing you were just a room away, naked and hard and-”

“ _Fuck_ , stop talking.” Jonathan breathed, pulling Pat closer, “Stop talking.”

He lifted his hips, rolling them against Patrick’s. Patrick thickened up all the way, and he nuzzled his nose into Jonathan’s neck.

“Fine.” He mumbled, and grabbed hold on Jonathan’s dick.

Jonny hadn't been touched by another person in ages and shit, it felt so good. He moaned loudly, arching his hips up into Patrick's grip.

“Shh.” Pat whispered, “We can't wake her up. We'll never finish.” He sealed their lips together again and gave Jon a particularly sharp upstroke. “And I intend to finish this.”

Jonathan mewled, panting wetly against Patrick’s cheek.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He pressed his forehead against the blond's, and he reached down in between them to grab hold of Patrick’s dick, and the man above him jolted, letting out a guttural groan.

“Shit.” Pat breathed out, and his stuttered, thumbnail catching in Jonny’s slit.

Jon’s eyes went wide and he gasped, heaving out a whine.

Patrick panted, “This sounds like a really bad porno script.”

Jonathan couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Of course you'd say something like that.” He snorted, then whimpered when Patrick sucked a hickey on the joint where his clavicle met his shoulder.

“You're into biting?” Patrick asked, surprised, then grinned mischievously. He shoved his hips forward and bit behind Jonathan’s ear, then little bites, tugging his skin, all the way down his neck and chest.

“Patrick…” Jonathan moaned, closing his eyes on bliss when Pat attached his mouth to Jon’s right nipple.

Jonathan put his hand on the back of Let’s head to hold him there, hand working faster to get Patrick off.

“Just like that, baby.” Patrick breathed, going for the other nipples swirling his tinge around the perky pink bud, “God, I love you so much.”

“Pat.” Jonny cried out, and Patrick tightened his grip and sped up, and Jonathan arched his back, waves of pleasure attacking him at every area. “I love you too, shit.”

He leaned forward and kissed Patrick's neck, then down to right above his neck, and promptly sucked a hickey there, reveling in Patrick’s little sigh of contentment, free hand coming up to hold Jonathan by his back, pressing him close.

“Gonna come for me, Jonny?” Pat asked, hands sliding to the fat swells of Jon’s ass. “Fuck, I’d love to get my hands in here. You've got the best ass, baby, even better than Crosby.”

“Do _not_ mention Crosby while you've got a hand on my dick, you fucker.” Jonathan huffed, canting his hips against Patrick’s, both breathlessly humping each other closer to their orgasms.

“God, what I would do to get my dick in there.” Pat ignored his statement. “You're the one who's always done the fucking. Think it's about time it's the other way around, huh?”

Jonathan couldn't see. His vision was cloudy as Patrick doubled his thrusting speed, humping Jonathan flat into the mattress. His fingers skimmed down his crack, then right over his hole. He carefully pushed his index finger in, only to the first knuckle, and Jonathan spasmed.

He came in hot white ropes up and down both their chests. He bit back a scream, instead groaning loudly, head thrown back and hips jutted up and out.

Patrick pushed his thighs apart and got a hand on his own cock, and he jerked a couple times before following Jonathan over the edge, gritting his teeth and letting out a long, harsh breath through his nose.

They collapsed next to each other, completely spent. Panting, Patrick asked, “How gross would it be if I cleaned you off with my tongue?”

Jonathan snorted. “Mildly. But don't think I'm licking you clean.”

Patrick laughed breathily and pushed Jonny back onto his back, pinning his arms down. They both giggled a little, and s  
Jonathan closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Patrick’s tongue roaming his body, up and down and zigzag.

He felt Pat press a kiss to his nose, and he opened his eyes to find Patrick smiling fondly down at him, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jonathan hummed, arms coming up to wrap around his Pat’s neck.

“You know,” Jon added, pulling Patrick down so their noses brushed against each other, “Nine month olds are supposed to sleep through the night pretty well. She's been doing pretty good with that.”

Patrick grinned, “I'll get the water bottles?”

“Give me five minutes.”

They took off, Patrick for the kitchen and Jonny for the bathroom, and for the first time in a while, Jonathan could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

-

Jonathan hoisted the Cup over his head with a loud holler. The fans in the UC were screaming, feet pounding so hard, he could feel the shaking out on the ice.

He did his victory lap with the Cup clutched in his hands, sweat sliding down his face.

He made his way over to Patrick, who cheered, and he handed it off to his winger. They held it up together, connecting their lips in a heady, adrenaline-filled kiss. They grinned against each other at the gagging and cat-calls from their teammates around them, and the fans that got even louder.

They handed the Cup off to Brinksy, who got the game-winning goal, and looked around as family and friends came spilling onto the ice.

Sharpy came out cheering, throwing himself at his captain and friends, and the couple held him while they yelled out in victory.

Abby came after him, Maddy and Sadie being helped by Nick and Duncs, Abella in Abby’s arms.

The ten month old screamed in excitement when she saw her parents and clapped her hands, before reaching out to them.

Patrick took her and adjusted her blank Hawks jersey, kissing her chubby cheek. She squealed, “ _Pa_ pa!”

Jonathan checked to make sure she had her noise-cancelling mufflers in her ears, and she grabbed his finger, “Dada!”

“Hi, _mon bébé._ ” He cooed.

The group took their group picture, and then Patrick put Abella in the Cup, clad in Hawks gear, surrounded by her parents and team on home ice.

The photographer snapped a photo of Abella in the Cup, Patrick and Jonny on either side of it, kissing over top of her.

That picture still hangs in the Kane-Toews household three years after they married, and will remain there for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and my favorite thing I’ve ever written


End file.
